Constance, to her Husband on her Death-bed. 1 THEODRIC, this is destiny above Our power to baffle! bear it then, my love! Rave not to learn the usage I have borne, For one true sister left me not forlorn: And though you're absent in another land, Sent from me by my own well-meant command, Your soul, I know, as firm is knit to mine As these clasp'd hands, in blessing you, now join: Shape not imagin'd horrors in my fateEv'n now my sufferings are not very great; And when your grief's first transports shall subside, I call upon your strength of soul and pride, To pay my memory, if 'tis worth the debt, Love's glorying tribute-not forlorn regret : I charge my name with power to conjure up Reflection's balmy, not its bitter cup. My pard'ning angel at the gate of Heaven Shall look not more regard than you have given and our life's union has been clad In smiles of bliss as sweet as life e'er had. To me: The Dying Lover's Song. LET me not have this gloomy view d As innocent, but not so gay. I will not have the churchyard ground, cote Through which the ringed earth-worms creep Crabbe. The Ocean. THERE is a pleasure in the pathless woods, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: To mingle with the Universe, and feel Stops with the shore ;-upon the watery plain, The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own: When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown! His steps are not upon thy paths,thy fields Are not a spoil for him,-thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction, thou dost all despise,- The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war JA They melt into thy yest of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. Thy shores are empires, chang'd in all save thee- Has dried up realms to deserts :-not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure browSuch as Creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now! Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests !-in all time Calm or convuls'd, in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime tai 7. Dark-heaving-boundless, endless, and sublime! The image of Eternity!-the throne og AÅ Of the Invisible !-Even from out thy slime/ The monsters of the deep are made! Each zone Obeys thee! Thou goest forth, dread! fathomless! alone! Byron o DRY be that tear, my gentlest love, Ask'st thou how long my love will stay, How long, ah Delia, can I say How long my life will last? Dry be that tear, be hush'd that sigh, And does that thought affect thee too, Must yield that faithful breath? Sheridan. The Shipwreck. 'Twas twilight, for the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one who hates us; so the night was shown, And grimly darkled o'er their faces pale, And-hopeless eyes, which o'er the deep alone Gazed dim and desolate; twelve days had Fear Been their familiar, and now Death was here. Some trial had been making at a raft, |